Then what happened?
by Shannanigans
Summary: What happened after the end of "Appointment in Samarra"?  This is my so-so version.  I'd love to read yours!


**A quickly written one-shot immediately following ****Appointment in Samarra. I was hoping to read more of these (surely much better than mine!), so I hope y'all can give me your versions! I need (NEED) to see at least a little something about what Sam has been through on the show! It can't be back to business as usual, my heart can't take it! In the meantime, I'd love to read what you think should've happened!****  
(Wow, that was a lot of exclamation points…)**

SPN**SPN**SPN**SPN

My head is buzzing. It's not painful, but strangely numb. When my hearing returns I realize that I have been screaming, from the feeling in my throat, screaming for quite a while. Slowly, I open my eyes, but everything seems too bright. I actually whimper when I cover my eyes with my arm. I hear a voice I don't recognize or remember saying, "Goodbye".

Confused. I'm so confused. I try to slow my breathing, but it hitches again when I feel a hand on my shoulder. When I open my eyes, Dean is talking to me, but his mouth doesn't match the timing of his words. It's like I'm watching a video online and there is a delay… Finally, I understand what he is saying.

"Sammy? Are you okay?"

_Why does Dean sound so strange? He sounds… sad, hopeful and scared all at the same time._ I attempt to make my vocal cords work again, but all that comes out is a strained, "D'n".

Dean grabs a towel from a nearby table and starts to wipe away all of the sweat and tears on my face. He takes his eyes off of mine for a moment, and looking down whispers, "did it work"?

"Wha'?" I say with eloquence.

Dropping the towel onto my stomach, he grasps both sides of my face. "Did it work? Are you Sammy again? Do you have your goddamned soul?"

My eyebrows scrunch together as I look into his eyes. "D'n, I… I'm… I don't understand what's happening! Where am I? Why am I tied down? I'm… really confused..."

"Dammit Sam! What do you remember?"

"I… uh… I…" I turn my head from side to side, trying to clear the cobwebs as more tears drip down my face. "Things are… jumbled. I'm… jumbled. I was… in h…hell, but I was here too… Which is it Dean? What is real?" I'm starting to get worked up. I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck and my whole body is shaking. I'm breathing too fast, but can't stop. The room is starting to spin and the buzzing is back only now my whole body is shaking. Blackness is starting to take over my vision. All I can see now are Dean's eyes. They look… um… relieved? I close my eyes to stop the spinning and once again I cannot hear over the buzzing, but I do feel something grabbing my hand. Next my hand falls free over the cot, onto the cold floor. _He's taking off the handcuffs, I realize._ Then before I can adjust to this new freedom and rejoin the conversation, Dean grabs me up into a hug and holds on so tight I think I might pass out again. My head lolls in the crook of his neck and all I can feel is relief. _I must've said the right thing_. I may be confused as all hell, but I realize that both Dean and I need this. I can't open my eyes yet, but I am aware of being held and I know that it is Dean doing the holding. He smells like Dean; like soap and aftershave, like leather and French fries. The tears are back, I try to back away because I must be soaking Dean's collar, but he won't let me. I realize that I feel drops falling onto my forehead, Dean must be crying too.

When I dare to open my eyes again, the room is no longer spinning and neither of us are crying anymore. Dean pulls back and looks at me, as if he hasn't seen me for years. "You okay?" he asks.

"M'confused still, but not scared anymore. Dean… what the hell happened to me?"

Dean looks taken aback for a moment, so much so that I immediately realize (even in my current state) that I have said those words before. "I mean, uh… where am I?"

"Look around dude. You're at Bobby's, in the basement. Do you feel like standing? I'd like to get you upstairs to bed. You, um…, probably need some serious sleep, Sammy."

Taking a deep breath, I push off of the cot and slowly stand. Dean is right next to me, I know he won't let me fall. Unfortunately, that's exactly what I try to do. About to pass out, I feel his hands holding me up, keeping me standing.

"Sammy? Take it easy man. We can take this slow. Open your eyes Sam."

Doing as I'm told, all I can see is Dean's chest. I attempt to stand up straight while Dean keeps a death grip on my elbow. We head for the stairs, taking one agonizing step at a time. By the time we reach the second floor bedroom, I am barely holding myself up anymore. Heavily leaning on Dean, I sigh in relief at the sight of the bed. With gentleness I had forgotten he could have, Dean sits me down and pulls my shoes off. Next, he helps me to lie down and covers me with a warm, soft blanket. Once again brushing the hair away from my eyes, he looks at me.

"Sam, get some sleep. You need rest. We can talk about everything when you wake up."

"M'scared Dean." I'm not even really sure what I am scared of right now; my brain is so scrambled.

Pulling a chair next to my bed, Dean looks into my tired eyes. "I'm right here Sam. I'm not going anywhere… and neither are you. Go to sleep."

It's a fight to keep my eyes open at this point. As my eyes close and my head sinks into the soft pillow, I feel Dean's hand on top of mine, grounding me, keeping me safe. In the back of my confused mind, I think I should ignore the fact that Dean is being unusually "touchy-feely". I rouse at the last moment, afraid of the possibility of dreams I won't understand right now. It's as if Dean knows without hearing me say the words.

"Sammy, it's okay. You are home now. You need rest. I'm right here and I'm not leaving you. Instead of being scared of what you might dream, try thinking about good memories as you drop off. Things are gonna be okay Sam. You're here and I'm here. We're gonna be okay."

The confusion I feel doesn't go away as I drift into sleep, but I am able to do as Dean said. When the buzzing falls away and my limbs relax I dream of the interior of the Impala, pool games won and lost and jokes tossed back and forth. In short, I dream of my brother… and everything _is_ gonna be okay. I have to believe that…


End file.
